


Transatlantic Call

by bluemadridista



Series: Transfer Tragedies [1]
Category: Football RPF
Genre: M/M, Sad, Transfer Window, and we all need a little catharsis, he and becks aren't together, iker is leaving, they're just friends who never really openly acknowledged their feelings for each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-12
Updated: 2015-07-12
Packaged: 2018-04-08 22:49:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4323786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluemadridista/pseuds/bluemadridista
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Iker is depressed about being kicked out of Real Madrid, and he calls on David for help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Transatlantic Call

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I really want to say that none of this is true. Unfortunately, Iker is really leaving. Besides that... not true. To my knowledge...
> 
> This was written for beautiful-crazy-enigma24 on Tumblr, and all the other madridistas who are hurting right now. Love you all. x

David was having lunch with Steven Gerrard when he heard the news. He was seated at the table on Steven’s deck outside when each of them received the notification on their phones. His heart plummeted. The article was one he never thought he would read.

_End of an Era: Iker Casillas to Porto, Official_

He felt Steven’s hand clamp down on his shoulder. He stared at his phone, finding it all too hard to believe.

He looked up when Stevie’s hand left his shoulder. He could see pain in Stevie’s eyes. He knew that Stevie understood the pain of losing a legend.

“You’re welcome to sit in me office to ring him,” Stevie offered. “It locks. You’ll have complete privacy.”

David was en route to Stevie’s office when his phone rang. He was not shocked to see Iker’s name and face on the screen. He nipped inside of the office, and answered the phone as he closed the door behind him. “I’m so sorry,” he said in lieu of a greeting as he twisted the lock.

All that he got in return was a sniffle. His heart cracked.

“Is Sergio with you?” David asked.

Another sniffle, and the hint of a sob.

“He’s in Sevilla?” He guessed. There was a time when he envied the Sevillian for winning Iker’s heart when he left. Those feelings were long gone. He felt nothing, but respect and gratitude for him now. Iker needed someone to love him, and protect him. Sergio had proved to be the best man for the job. David would forever love him, but he had gone too far away to be his protector.

Iker sniffed. “He’s on his way, but I needed to talk to you.”

“Of course. You know that I’m here for you.”

“My heart is broken, David.” David waited patiently for Iker to continue rather than interjecting with his own feelings: _I’m heartbroken too_. “This club is my life. My heart. Mi alma.” Iker began to weep again.

David allowed him a few moments before he spoke. “Because of you, it will always be part of my soul as well.”

Perhaps, that hadn’t been the best thing to say, because David heard a muffled sob on the other end of the phone.

“You deserve so much better than this, Iker.”

“The madridistas deserve better,” Iker mumbled. “What will they think of me? They will all hate me. They have always been the most important thing to me, David. It was never about winning trophies – not for myself anyway, not for my ego. It was about the supporters, making them proud. And my teammates, it was about helping them do well, helping them succeed. And…” He sobbed. “Madrid. It was about my city. My people. I would have given them anything, everything. I did. I gave them my life.”

“And they _know_ that. Iker, they know what you did for them. They know what you have won in your honor. They probably remember all the saves you’ve gotten better than you do.” David allowed himself a chuckle at that. When Iker didn’t chuckle along, he stopped abruptly, and cleared his throat. “Iker, your true supporters would never think badly of you. They know that you would never abandon them. They will know that this is Perez’ doing.”

Iker wasn’t convinced, but he didn’t voice that concern. “What will I do?”

“You’ll do what you’ve always done in the face of adversity: You’ll push past it. You’ll move forward. You’ll prove to everyone that no matter how hard you get knocked down, no matter how much Perez would like to see you fail, you won’t. Your beloved madridistas will still love you. They’ll follow you to Porto.”

“It won’t be the same.”

“Was Madrid the _same_ when Raúl left? No. But it was still amazing. You were different after he left, but _you_ were amazing. And you will be again.”

“I was still in Madrid then,” Iker argued, sniffing.

David felt like a vice was being tightened around his heart. “Your heart will be there, Iker, and the supporters will be with you. You might physically be in another city, but you’ll always be playing for Madrid. Your heart and soul will always be attached to that city, and your people.”

“I’ll be in so much pain… with my heart stretched so far. I’m already in pain. I feel like I’m dying. You can’t imagine what it’s been like these past few days.”

“Don’t I? I’ve never left a club I loved, a club that captured my heart and soul…” David paused, wondering whether he should mention that he also knew what it was like to leave behind the man that he loved. Eventually, he thought better of it. That had always seemed to go unspoken between them. “I know what it’s like, Iker. I know it’s hard. I know it’s damn hard. But that’s what happens in this beautiful, horrible profession of ours.”

“Not to me!” Iker shouted. “It wasn’t supposed to happen to me! I was supposed to retire in Madrid! I have spent my entire career in Madrid, almost my entire life! I have always been a one club man. This is my _home_. This is my son’s home. I brought my son to Bernabeu. I brought my baby boy here, and I told him, David…” Iker choked on his words. 

David could hear rustling like the phone was being pulled away from Iker’s ear. Faint sobbing could be heard. David covered his mouth, and his eyes filled with tears.

“I told him this was his home, David,” Iker whispered, sniffling.

David wiped his eyes, and took a deep breath before he spoke again. “Madrid will always be his home, Iker.”

“Madrid will be his _birthplace_ , but the Bernabeu won’t be his home. I won’t be able to take him there, and…”

“Rubbish! You _can_ take him there. You can take him there when he’s old enough to appreciate it, when Perez has buggered off, and there’s a better bloody president in charge of things. You can take him to see Sergio captaining the young squad. Sergio can tell him stories about how his father was once the best goalkeeper and captain to ever step foot on that pitch.”

Iker was silent for several minutes, save a few soft sniffles now and then. “How do you always know what to say?” he finally asked.

“Because I know you…” He paused, and then adding in a joking tone, “And I’m a genius, absolutely brilliant, in fact.”

Iker chuckled softly.

“Did I just hear laughter?”

“Not at all.”

“…You’ll be okay, Iker. It will be difficult, but you will be okay.”

“Do you think Sergio will be okay?”

“Sergio is one of the strongest people I have ever met.”

“Of course… He’ll be okay. What I mean to say is…”

“Will he be okay with the separation? Will he give up on you?”

“Exactly.”

“Take it from me, it would take a lot more separation. You’re not an easy man to give up on, to forget.”

 _Neither are you,_ he wanted to say. It was on the tip of his tongue. Instead, he simply thanked David.

“Will Sergio be there soon?”

“Any minute, I hope.”

“I should go then.” There had never been enough room for him _and_ Sergio in Iker’s life. He may have had a small area in Iker’s heart reserved, but Sergio would always be the one that got to spend his days with him, hold him as he fell asleep, kiss him when he woke up, and all of the things that real lovers do.

“I love… I love that you let me vent like this.”

“Any time… Just call.”

“Thank you so much.”

“It _will_ be okay, Iker. I promise.”

“I might have to call you a few more times, but eventually I might believe that.”

“I’ll be waiting by the phone.”

“Goodbye, David.”

“Adios, Iker.”

Iker pressed the “end” button on his phone, and placed it on the table next to the armchair in which he was seated. As soon as the screen touched the tabletop, the phone buzzed. Iker snatched it up. A text message from Sergio was waiting.

**I’m outside. I forgot my key.**

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave some comments... I need some comment love right now. My capi is leaving. :'(


End file.
